Evelyn Raymond

Evelyn Raymond
Evelyn Raymond was an American author known for her prolific output in the early 20th century, focusing primarily on adventure and historical fiction for young readers. She wrote numerous novels and short stories, often featuring strong female protagonists and settings that ranged from the American frontier to Europe. Raymond's works were well-received during her lifetime, contributing to the rich tapestry of literature aimed at young adults in the early 1900s.

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CHAPTER I THE STORM “Margot! Margot!” Mother Angelique’s anxious call rang out over the water, once, twice, many times. But, though she shaded her brows with her hands and strained her keen ears to listen, there was no one visible and no response came back to her. So she climbed the hill again and, reëntering the cabin, began to stir with almost vicious energy the contents of a pot swinging in... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE ROAD TO OAK KNOWE “This way for the Queen!” “Here you are for the Duke of Connaught! Right this way!” “Want the Metropole, Miss?” “Room there, stupid! She’s from the States—any fool could see that! I’m from your hotel, little lady, the American. Your luggage, Miss, allow me?” If Dorothy’s hands hadn’t been too full, she would have clapped them over her ears,... more...

CHAPTER I ON THE TRAIN “Maryland, my Maryland!” dreamily hummed Dorothy Calvert. “Not only your Maryland, but mine,” was the resolute response of the boy beside her. Dorothy turned on him in surprise. “Why, Jim Barlow, I thought nothing could shake your allegiance to old New York state; you’ve told me so yourself dozens of times, and—” “I know, Dorothy; I’ve thought so myself, but... more...

CHAPTER I A BIG GIFT FOR A SMALL MAID. “Well, of all things!” exclaimed Mrs. Betty Calvert, shaking her white head and tossing her hands in a gesture of amazement. Then, as the letter she had held fell to the floor, her dark eyes twinkled with amusement and she smilingly demanded: “Dorothy, do you want an elephant?” The girl had been reading her own letters, just come in the morning’s mail,... more...

CHAPTER I. AT BELLEVIEU. “Dorothy!” called Jim as he quickly searched the garden at Bellevieu for her. “Yes,” answered Dorothy, “I am here sitting under the big oak tree.” “I have something for you,” cried Jim. “Guess what?” “Guess what?” echoed Dorothy. “Well it might be—Oh! there are so many, many things it could be.” “Here, take it. Its only a letter from New York,... more...

CHAPTER ION THE CANYON TRAIL. “Hello, there! What in the name of reason is this?” The horseman’s excited cry was echoed by a startled neigh from his beast, which wheeled about so suddenly that he nearly precipitated both himself and rider into the gulch below. “Oh! I’m sorry––Hold on, Zu! Go! Do, please. Quick! It’s so narrow just beyond and I can’t––” The stranger obeyed,... more...

CHAPTER I. AS THE SUN WENT DOWN. With gloom in his heart, Black Partridge strode homeward along the beach path. The glory of a brilliant August sunset crimsoned the tops of the sandhills on the west and the waters of the broad lake on the east; but if the preoccupied Indian observed this at all, it was to see in it an omen of impending tragedy. Red was the color of blood, and he foresaw that blood must... more...

The One Room House It was in “the littlest house in Ne’ York” that Glory lived, with grandpa and Bo’sn, the dog, so she, and its owner, often boasted; and whether this were actually true or not, it certainly was so small that no other sort of tenant than the blind captain could have bestowed himself, his grandchild, and their few belongings in it. A piece-of-pie shaped room, built to utilize a... more...

JESSICA DISAPPEARS Mrs. Benton and Jessica were upon the south porch of the Sobrante ranch house, the former busy as usual, the latter idly enjoying her charming surroundings as she swung to and fro in her hammock. Mighty vines of pale yellow roses, intermingled with climbing fuchsias, cast shade and sweetness over them; the porch was bordered by a wide swath of calla lilies, also in full flower, while... more...

CHAPTER I SAILING DOWN THE HUDSON “All aboard—what’s goin’! All ashore—what ain’t!” The stentorian shout of the colored steward, so close to Dorothy’s ear, made her jump aside with a little scream. Then as she saw that the boat hands were about to draw the gang plank back to the steamer’s deck, she gave another little cry and fairly pushed Alfaretta toward it. “Never mind hugging me... more...

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